


Eat your heart out

by goodbyelover



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Detective Jackson, Implied Sexual Content, Jackson is horny, M/M, Mark has a muzzle, Minor Character Death, Monster Mark, Monsters, Murderers, Semi-dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodbyelover/pseuds/goodbyelover
Summary: It’s better this way, isn’t it? Jackson thinks so, as he begins carefully planting evidence. If all signs point to one of the city’s warring drug lords, isn’t that just one less drug lord to deal with?Or: Mark is hungry and Jackson helps him feed.
Relationships: Mark Tuan/Jackson Wang
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62





	Eat your heart out

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing like being 5 years late to writing for one of your fandoms, amirite? This is absolutely nothing that I need to be writing, but it basically wrote itself and you know what, this is just my brand.
> 
> Deepest appreciation to @maricolous for always being my beta ♥ You are my most favorite.
> 
> And of course, a shoutout to my discord friends as they have been immensely supportive in my journey back to writing ♥

It’s better this way, isn’t it? Jackson thinks so, as he begins carefully planting evidence. If all signs point to one of the city’s warring drug lords, isn’t that just one less drug lord to deal with? 

“Jack,” Mark whines behind his muzzle, struggling against the straight jacket Jackson had strapped him into after he’d bitten down on Jackson’s fingers too hard that morning. His eyes are barely a faint glow of red, but they’re looking at him with reproach and need and something much, much darker. 

“Jack, I’m  _ hungry.” _

“Patience,” Jackson answers as he casts his gaze around. Leave all the right traces, make sure only the right things are found. He can’t afford to be sloppy for his darling.

Mark jerks against his restraints in discontent, tired of waiting, not even settling when Jackson returns to his side to stroke his fingers through Mark’s hair. He usually quiets under Jackson’s touch, but there’s none of that calm now.  _ Poor thing _ , Jackson muses to himself. He must be famished. 

“I’ll take care of you,” he promises, kissing the top of Mark’s head, even as Mark tries to bite at him through the muzzle, teeth snapping closed over empty air.

He’ll always take care of Mark.

It’s stupidly easy to lure a nearby goon into this abandoned building - just tucked out of the way of the streets enough that nobody will really hear anything, won’t see anyone coming or going. He looks the type that has been this way long enough that nobody will miss him, won’t even notice he’s gone, and Jackson doesn’t think he’s ideal, but Mark’s palate is very specific in a way Jackson doesn’t understand.

The man lurches into the middle of the room, where one seedy light swings enough to cast cursed shadows amongst the debris of the building, obscenities spat out like ooze and phlegm - disgustingly unworthy.

Beside Jackson, Mark is practically vibrating, the straightjacket straining against his eagerness, chains rattling softly where he’s struggling to lunge forward. 

“Behave,” Jackson says, voice sharp as he reaches for the chain wrapped around Mark’s neck, yanking him down to his knees. The man hasn’t realized yet, hasn’t put the pieces together, and it’s just so  _ easy _ like this. 

“G’na fuck you up,” the man slurs as he stumbles forward, and Jackson glances at the knife he’s brandishing with soft disdain. “Fuck y’up so bad.”

A soft growl rises from Mark, his eyes flickering a dark carnelian. He’s so hungry, Jackson knows. He’s absolutely ravenous now. “I can hear it, Jack… I can hear it  _ beat _ .” The chains rattle as he leans against them. 

“ _ Do not _ make me repeat myself,” Jackson tells him, and it is no idle threat. Once, Mark had been defiant and Jackson had taken away his fun, had slit the man’s throat himself and hadn’t let Mark near the body until it had gone quite still. 

Mark had been distressed to tears.

Now, Mark visibly struggles, eyes never leaving the man as he jacks his shoulders back and then finally, finally stills, his entire body like a taut wire, waiting to snap violently. There’s a thrum in Jackson’s chest as he runs his fingers through Mark’s hair just once, before deftly undoing the buckle of the muzzle. It’s pride, as Mark stays still even when the muzzle comes off, that he waits for Jackson even as the chains fall away. 

He’s so good for Jackson, even when he’s starving. 

“Go.”

There is nothing more beautiful than Mark as he leaps towards the man, soaring through the open air with a grace that is inhuman by its very nature. It’s beautiful, the way Mark’s ripped his throat out before they even hit the ground, the burst of blood gorgeous in its staining and splatter.

There is nothing more beautiful than Mark, with his red eyes and sharp fangs and hands that were too clawed to be like Jackson’s, who could rip Jackson to pieces but chose instead to kiss him. There was nothing more beautiful than watching the devastation Mark could wreak upon another person, to partake in every last terror Mark meted out upon this world.

The man never has a chance to scream, Mark devouring that first of all.

Jackson watches lazily at a distance, fiddling with the clasp of the muzzle as Mark gorges himself, as he rips the man’s chest open to reveal his still beating heart and greedily feasts, teeth stained with gore as he tears into the pulsing flesh. Blood has smeared across his mouth, like a gash, a wound that mimics and mocks the gaping wound below him.

It should be disgusting, the way Mark rips the body apart, ripping pieces of muscle from limb with wild abandon, but Mark is nothing short of breathtaking as he keens in satisfaction. Jackson should look away from the cracked and naked ribs, from the ghoulish pool of blood that had spread from the body like a spotlight of carnivorous pleasure. 

He doesn’t, however.

“Stop.”

Mark’s eyes are now glowing bright and more furiously red than the blood staining him, but he still stops instantly, the abortive movement of his hands the only indication that it was even difficult for him. 

Finally Jackson pushes himself from the wall, ambles over to join Mark over his garish feast. “Didn’t I say I’d take care of you?” Jackson says, smiling gently at Mark as he reaches down, plucks a piece from the body - part of a lung, probably - before lifting it to Mark’s mouth.

“Love you,” Mark breathes out, kissing the curve of Jackson’s fingers before he nips at the offering, sharp teeth careful against Jackson’s soft, soft skin. “Love you so much.”

“I know,” Jackson says, giving him another piece, challenging Mark to be good for him even when he still wants to ravage and rip and maim.. 

It’s not even trust, it’s  _ assurance _ . Jackson knows there is no iteration in which Mark would hurt him..

He continues to feed Mark, enjoying every little soft kiss and whispered adoration that Mark gives him between bites. Enjoys it even more when he dips his fingers in one of the pools of blood to bring to Mark’s mouth and Mark eagerly tries to choke himself on them. He keeps them there, like a treat for the two of them to share.

There are things Jackson wishes he could do. Wishes he could stand up and twist his fingers through Mark’s hair. Wishes he could choke Mark on his cock as they stood next to a man that Mark had exterminated with ease, had opened his chest with the ease in which Jackson opened wrapped presents. Wishes he could fuck Mark’s pretty, pretty throat stained red with blood.

Still, there’s a limit to the risks they can take, and while luring idiot men to their deaths was fine, the potential for leaving evidence – Mark was just so messy – was not. 

“Don’t make me wait too long,” Jackson says, pulling his fingers away, chuckles when Mark chases after them for a moment. 

The man’s body lies in ruins, Mark having taken the best of his organs and then worked his way around to rip at every last piece of him. It will be garish in daylight, terrible in its ferocious destruction. Jackson almost wishes he could take a picture now because the evidence records wouldn’t capture the beauty of it all.

Soon, he’ll have to hook the muzzle back over Mark’s mouth and pull him away. He’ll bundle Mark into the car and they’ll drive away, leaving behind a crime scene they’ll take no credit for. Later, Jackson will settle Mark down in a bath, sweetly washing away every last trace of blood down the drain as Mark basks in his attention. Perhaps, also later, Jackson will press Mark down into the sheets and have his fill until Mark is sobbing, allowing himself his own moment of greed and hunger. 

Even later, Jackson may get a call, about a body found, and ‘ _ Detective, you need to see this _ ’ - but maybe they’ll call Jaebum, and Jackson knows Jaebum will find all the right clues. 

For now though…

For now, he’ll let Mark eat his heart out.


End file.
